CHAPTER II
THE LOCKED ROOM
Ursula Pell leaned back in her chair and shrieked with laughter.
"She _will_ have stuffed dates and fancy fixin's, will she?" she cried;"I just guess she's had enough of those fallals now!"
"It quite spoiled her pretty frock," said Mrs. Bowen, timidlyremonstrant.
"That's nothing, I'll buy her another. Oh, I did that pretty cleverly, Ican tell you! I took a little capsule, a long, thin one, and I filled itwith ink, just as you'd fill a fountain pen. Oh, oh! Iris _was_ so mad!She never suspected at all; and she bit into that date--oh! oh! wasn'tit funny!"
"I don't think it was," began Mrs. Bowen, but her husband lifted hiseyebrows at her, and she said no more.
Though a clergyman, Alexander Bowen was not above mercenary impulses,and the mere reference, whether it had been meant or not, to a jeweledchalice made him unwilling to disapprove of anything such an influentialhostess might do or say.
"Iris owes so much to her aunt," the rector said smilingly, "of courseshe takes such little jests in good part."
"She'd better," and Ursula Pell nodded her head; "if she knows whichside her bread is buttered, she'll kiss the hand that strikes her."
"If it doesn't strike too hard," put in Mrs. Bowen, unable to resistsome slight comment.
But again her husband frowned at her to keep silent, and the subject wasdropped.
It was fully a quarter of an hour before Iris returned, her face redfrom scrubbing and still showing dark traces of the ink on chin andcheek. She wore a plain little frock of white dimity, and smiled as sheresumed her seat at the table.
"Now, Aunt Ursula," she said, "if you've any more ink to spill, spill iton this dress, and not on one of my best ones."
"Fiddlestrings, Iris, I'll give you a new dress--I'll give you two. Itwas well worth it, to see you bite into that date! My! you looked sofunny! And you look funny yet! There's ink marks all over your face!"
Mrs. Pell shook with most irritating laughter, and Iris flushed withannoyance.
"I know it, auntie; but I couldn't get them off."
"Never mind, it'll wear off in a few days. And meantime, you can wrap itup in a blotter!"
Again the speaker chuckled heartily at her own wit, and the rectorjoined her, while Mrs. Bowen with difficulty achieved a smile.
She was sorry for Iris, for this sort of jesting offended the girl morethan it would most people, and the kind-hearted woman knew it. But,afraid of her husband's disapproval, she said nothing, and smiled, athis unspoken behest.
Nor was Iris herself entirely forgiving. One could easily see that hercalmly pleasant expression covered a deeper feeling of resentment andexasperation. She had the appearance of having reached her limit, andthough outwardly serene was indubitably angry.
Her pretty face, ludicrous because of the indelible smears of ink, waspale and strained, and her deep brown eyes smoldered with repressedrage. For Iris Clyde was far from meek. Her nature was, first of all, ajust one, and, to a degree, retaliatory, even revengeful.
"Oh, I see your eyes snapping, Iris," exclaimed her aunt, delighted atthe girl's annoyance, "I'll bet you'll get even with me for this!"
"Indeed I will, Aunt Ursula," and Iris' lips set in a straight line ofdetermination, which, in conjunction with the ink stains, sent Mrs.Pell off into further peals of hilarity.
"Be careful, Iris," cautioned Mr. Bowen, himself wary, "if you get evenwith your aunt, she may leave the diamond pin to me instead of to you."
"Nixie," returned Iris saucily, "you've promised that particular diamondpin to me, haven't you, Auntie?"
"I certainly have, Iris. However often I change my will, that pin isalways designated as your inheritance."
"Where is it?" asked Mr. Bowen, curiously; "may I not see it?"
"It is in a box in my lawyer's safe, at this moment," replied Mrs. Pell."Mr. Chapin has instructions to hand the box over to Iris after mydeparture from this life, which I suppose you'd like to expedite, eh,Iris?"
"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to poison you," Iris smiled, "but Iconfess I felt almost murderous when I ran up to my room just now andlooked in the mirror!"
"I don't wonder!" exclaimed Mrs. Bowen, unable to stifle her feelingslonger.
"Tut! tut!" cried the rector, "what talk for Christian people!"
"Oh, they don't mean it," said Mrs. Pell, "you must take our chaff ingood part, Mr. Bowen."
Dinner over, the Bowens almost immediately departed, and Iris, catchingsight of her disfigured face in a mirror, turned angrily to her aunt.
"I won't stand it!" she exclaimed. "This is the last time I shall letyou serve me in this fashion. I'm going to New York to-morrow, and Ihope I shall never see you again!"
"Now, dearie, don't be too hard on your old auntie. It was only a joke,you know. I'll get you another frock----"
"It isn't only the frock, Aunt Ursula, it's this horrid state of thingsgenerally. Why, I never dare pick up a thing, or touch a thing--withoutthe chance of some fool stunt making trouble for me!"
"Now, now, I will try not to do it any more. But, don't talk about goingaway. If you do, I'll cut you out of my will entirely."
"I don't care. That would be better than living in a trick house! Lookat my face! It will be days before these stains wear off! You ought tobe ashamed of yourself, Aunt Ursula!"
The old lady looked roguishly penitent, like a naughty child.
"Oh, fiddle-de-dee, you can get them off with whatcha-call-it soap. ButI hope you won't! They make you look like a clown in a circus!"
Mrs. Pell's laughter had that peculiarly irritating quality that belongsto practical jokers, and Iris' sensitive nature was stung to the core.
"Oh, I hate you," she cried, "you are a fiend in human shape!" andwithout another word she ran upstairs to her own room.
Ursula Pell looked a little chagrined, then burst into laughter at theremembrance of Iris' face as she denounced her, and then her expressionsuddenly changed to one of pain, and she walked slowly to her ownsitting room, went in and closed the door behind her.
It was part of the Sunday afternoon routine that Mrs. Pell should go tothis room directly after dinner, and it was understood that she was notto be disturbed unless callers came.
A little later, Polly was in the dining-room arranging the sideboard,when she heard Mrs. Pell's voice. It was an agonized scream, not loud,but as one greatly frightened. The woman ran through the hall and livingroom to the closed door of the sitting room. Then she clearly heard hermistress calling for help.
But the door was locked on the inside, and Polly could not open it.
"Help! Thieves!" came in terrified accents, and then the voice died awayto a troubled groaning; only to rise in a shrill shriek of "Help!Quickly!" and then again the moans and sighs of one in agony.
Frantically Polly hurried to the kitchen and called her husband.
"One of her damfool jokes," muttered the old man, as he shuffled towardthe door of the locked room. "She's locked herself in, and she wants toget us all stirred up, thinkin' she's been attacked by thugs, an' in aminute she'll be laughin' at us."
"I don't think so," said Polly, dubiously, for she well knew hermistress' ways, "them yells was too natural."
Old Purdy listened, his ear against the door. "I can hear her rustlin'about a little," he said, "an'--there, that was a faint moan--mebbeshe's been took with a spell or suthin'."
"Let's get the door open, anyway," begged Polly. "If it's a joke, I'llstand for it, but I'll bet you something's happened."
"What could happen, unless she's had a stroke, an' if that's it, shewouldn't be a callin' out 'Thieves!' Didn't you say she said that?"
"Yes, as plain as day!"
"Then that proves she's foolin' us! How could there be thieves in there,an' the door locked?"
"Well, get it open. I'm plumb scared," and Polly's round face was palewith fright.
"But I can't. Do you want me to break it in? We'd get what for inearnest if I done
that!"
"Run around and look in the windows," suggested Polly, "and I'm going tocall Miss Iris. I jest know something's wrong, this time."
"What is it?" asked Iris, responding to the summons, "what was thatnoise I heard?"
"Mrs. Pell screamed out, Miss Iris, and when I went to see what was thematter, I found the door locked, and we can't get in."
"She screamed?" said Iris. "Perhaps it's just one of her jokes."
"That's what Purdy thinks, but it didn't sound so to me. It sounded likeshe was in mortal danger. Here's Purdy now. Well?"
"I can't see in the windows," was his retort, "the shades is all pulleddown, 'count o' the sun. She always has 'em so afternoons. And you wellknow, nobody could get in them windows, or out of 'em."
Ursula Pell's sitting room was also her storehouse of many treasures.Collections of curios and coins left by her husband, additional objectsof value, bought by herself, made the room almost a museum; and, inaddition, her desk contained money and important papers. Wherefore, shehad had the windows secured by a strong steel lattice work, that madeingress impossible to marauders. Two windows faced south and two west,and there was but one door, that into the living room.
This being locked, the room was inaccessible, and the drawn shadesprevented even a glimpse of the interior. The windows were open, but theshades inside the steel gratings were not to be reached.
There was no sound now from the room, and the listeners stood, lookingat one another, uncertain what to do next.
"Of course it's a joke," surmised Purdy, "but even so, it's our duty toget into that room. If so be's we get laughed at for our pains, it won'tbe anything outa the common; and if Mrs. Pell has had a stroke--oranything has happened to her, we must see about it."
"How will you get in?" asked Iris, looking frightened.
"Bust the door down," said Purdy, succinctly. "I'll have to get Campbellto help. While I'm gone after him, you try to persuade Mrs. Pell to comeout--if she's just trickin' us."
The old man went off, and Polly began to speak through the closed door.
"Let us in, Mrs. Pell," she urged. "Do, now, or Purdy'll spoil this gooddoor. Now what's the sense o' that, if you're only a foolin'? Open thedoor--please do--"
But no response of any sort was made. The stillness was tragic, yetthere was the possibility, even the likelihood, that the tricky mistressof the house would only laugh at them when they had forced an entrance.
"Of course it's her foolishness," said Agnes, who had joined the group.She spoke in a whisper, not wanting to brave a reprimand forimpertinence. "What does she care for having a new door made, if she canget us all soured up over nothing at all?"
Iris said nothing. Only a faint, almost imperceptible tinge remained ofthe ink stains on her face. She had used vigorous measures, and hadsucceeded in removing most of the disfigurement.
Campbell returned with Purdy.
"Ah, now, Mis' Pell, come out o' there," he wheedled, "do now! It's asin and a shame to bust in this here heavy door. Likewise it ain't noeasy matter nohow. I'm not sure me and Purdy can do it. Please, Missis,unlock the door and save us all a lot of trouble."
But no sound came in answer.
"Let's all be awful still," suggested Purdy, "for quite a time, an' seeif she don't make some move."
Accordingly each and every one of them scarcely breathed and the silencewas intense.
"I can't hear a sound," said Campbell, at last, his ear against thekeyhole, which was nearly filled by its own key. "I can't hear herbreathing. You sure she's in there?"
"Of course," said Polly. "Didn't I hear her screamin'? I tell you we_got_ to get in. Joke or no joke, we got to!"
"You're right," and Campbell looked serious. "I got ears like a hawk,and I bet I'd hear her breathing if she was in there. Come on, Purdy."
The door was thick and heavy, but the lock was a simple one, not a bolt,and the efforts of the two men splintered the jamb and released thedoor.
The sight revealed was overwhelming. The women screamed and the menstood aghast.
On the floor lay the body of Ursula Pell, and a glance was sufficient tosee that she was dead. Her face was covered with blood and a small poolof it had formed near her head. Her clothing was torn and disordered,and the whole room was in a state of chaos. A table was overturned, andthe beautiful lamp that had been on it, lay in shattered bits on thefloor. A heavy-handled poker, belonging to the fire set, was lying nearMrs. Pell's head, and the contents of her writing-desk were scatteredin mad confusion on chairs and on the floor. A secret cupboard abovethe mantel, really a small concealed safe, was flung open, and wasempty. An empty pocket-book lay on one chair, and an empty handbag onanother.
But these details were lost sight of in the attention paid to Mrs. Pellherself.
"She's dead! she's dead!" wailed Polly. "It wasn't a joke of hers--itwas really robbers. She called out 'Thieves!' and 'Help!' several times.Oh, if I'd got you men in sooner!"
"But, good land, Polly!" cried Campbell, "what do you mean by thieves?How _could_ anybody get in here with the door locked? Or, if he was in,how could he get out?"
"Maybe he's here now!" and Polly gazed wildly about.
"We'll soon see!" and Campbell searched the entire room. It was notdifficult, for there were no alcoves or cupboards, the furniture wasmostly curio cabinets, treasure tables, a few chairs and a couch.Campbell looked under the couch, and behind the window curtains, but nointruder was found.
"Mighty curious," said old Purdy, scratching his head; "how in blazescould she scream murder and thieves, when there wasn't no one in here?And how could anyone be in here with her, and get out, leavin' that'ere door locked behind him?"
"She was murdered all right!" declared Campbell, "look at them bruiseson her neck! See, her dress is tore open at the throat! What kind o'villain could 'a' done that? Gosh, it's fierce!"
Iris came timidly forward to look at the awful sight. Unable to bear it,she turned and sank on the couch, completely unnerved.
"Get a doctor, shall I?" asked Campbell, who was the most composed ofthem all.
"What for?" asked Purdy. "She's dead as a door nail, poor soul! But yes,I s'pose it's the proper thing. An' we oughta get the crowner, an' nottouch nothin' till he comes."
"The coroner!" Iris' eyes stared at him. "What for?"
"Well, you see, Miss Iris, it's custom'ry when they's a murder----"
"But she couldn't have been murdered! Impossible! Who could have doneit? It's--it's an accident."
"I wish I could think so, Miss Iris," and Purdy's honest old face wasvery grave, "but you look around. See, there's been robbery,--look atthat there empty pocket-book an' empty bag! An' the way she'sbeen--hit! Why, see them marks on her chest! She's fair black an' blue!And her skirt's tore--"
"Good Lord!" cried Polly, "her pocket's tore out! She always had a bigpocket inside each dress skirt, and this one's been--why it's been cutout!"
There could be no doubt that the old lady had been fearfully attacked.Nor could there be any doubt of robbery. The ransacked desk, the opensafe, the cut-out pocket, added to the state of the body itself, left noroom for theories of accident or self-destruction.
"Holler for the doctor," commanded Purdy, instinctively taking the helm."You telephone him, Campbell, and then he'll see about the coroner--orwhoever he wants. And I think we'd oughter call up Mr. Bowen, what say,Miss Iris?"
"Mr. Bowen--why?"
"Oh, I dunno; it seems sorter decent, that's all."
"Very well, do so."
"I--I suppose I ought to telephone to Mr. Bannard----"
"Sure you ought to. But let's get the people up here first, then you canget long distance to New York afterward."
Once over the first shock of horror, Purdy's sense of responsibilityasserted itself, and he was thoughtful and efficient.
"All of you go outa this room," he directed, "I'll take charge of ittill the police get here. This is a mighty strange case, an' I can't seeany light as to how it could 'a' happe
ned. But it did happen--poor Mis'Pell is done for, an' I'll stand guard over her body till somebody withmore authority gets here. You, Agnes, be ready to wait on the door, andPolly, you look after Miss Iris. Campbell, you telephone like I toldyou----"
Submissively they all obeyed him. Iris, with an effort, rose from thecouch and went out to the living room. There, she sat in a big chair,and stared at nothing, until Polly, watching, became alarmed.
"Be ca'm, now, Miss Iris, do be ca'm," she urged, stupidly.
"Hush up, Polly, I am calm. Don't say such foolish things. You know I'mnot the sort to faint or fly into hysterics."
"I know you ain't, Miss Iris, but you're so still and queer like----"
"Who wouldn't be? Polly, explain it. What happened to Aunt Ursula--do_you_ think?"
"Miss Iris, they ain't no explanation. I'm a quick thinker, I am, and Itell you, there ain't no way that murderer--for there sure was amurderer--could 'a' got in that room or got out, with that doorlocked."
"Then she killed herself?"
"No, she couldn't possibly 'a' done that. You know yourself, shecouldn't. When she screamed 'Thieves!' the thieves was there. Now, howdid they get away? They ain't no secret way in an' out, that I know.I've lived in this house too many years to be fooled about its buildin'.It's a mystery, that's what it is, a mystery."
"Will it ever be solved?" and Iris looked at old Polly as if inquiringof a sibyl.
"Land, child, how do I know? I ain't no seer. I s'pose some of thosesmart detectives can make it out, but it's beyond me!"
"Oh, Polly, they won't have detectives, will they?"
"Sure they will, Miss Iris; they'll have to."
"Now, I'm through with the telephone," said Campbell, reappearing."Shall I get New York for you, Miss?"
"No," said Iris, rising, "I'll get the call myself."